(Retelling of an Ainu folktale)

Frigid water rushed by Resak’s canoe as he paddled against the current. Even with shards of ice clinging to its banks, the Ishikari River flowed strong. But Resak knew he was stronger. He glanced at the salmon heaped in the bow of his canoe. And Father says I’m too young to hunt on my own! He laughed aloud.

Coming to another salmon pool, Resak reached for his spear. But as he scanned the water for his next target, he noticed daylight was fading. He would never make it home by nightfall.

Luckily, Resak knew of another village nearby. He paddled a while longer and spotted a footpath in the snow.

After beaching his canoe, he rolled a straw mat around the fish. Struggling to carry the bundle along with his bow, his hunting bag, and his knife, he followed the path.

Soon Resak came to a village much larger than his own. One house in particular rose above the others like an island.

That must be the chief’s house. Won’t Father be amazed to hear I met the village chief!

He approached the house and coughed—the Ainu way of asking for an invitation.

An old woman appeared in the entrance. No, Resak realized, she wasn’t much older than his mother. But her face looked haggard beyond her years. Like someone half asleep, she spread a mat on the floor, welcoming him.

Hesitantly, Resak stepped inside. 

Near the hearth in the center of the room sat the chief—a bearded man in a bark-cloth robe. Resak placed the bundle of salmon at his feet.

“I’m far from my village and it’s growing late,” he said. “Please, take this in return for letting me spend the night.”

The chief, too, looked tired and hollow. He nodded to his wife and she carried the salmon into the kitchen.

Resak sat down. He wished someone would comment on his impressive catch. Or say anything at all, for that matter. In the uneasy quiet, a faint shik, shik reached his ears. It came from a young man squatting in the shadows. The firelight flared and Resak saw he was carving a little wolf. Despite its simple shape, the wooden animal seemed almost alive. Its eyes blazed with the same determination as the man carving it. 

Aside from the shik, shik of the carver’s knife and the upopo of the boiling soup in the kitchen, Resak and the chief’s family sat in silence. When the food was served, the only conversation between them was slurps from their bowls.

Resak couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Did I come at a bad time?”

The chief lowered his soup.

“I wish I could tell you what’s troubling us, but, you see, that’s precisely the trouble.”

“I don’t understand,” said Resak.

Staring into the hearth, the chief continued, “It’s as if we’ve lost a great treasure we never had.”

What a ridiculous story! But Resak could see it in their eyes—they looked far from home.

“I’ll help you,” he blurted.

The chief sighed. “I appreciate your kindness, but there’s nothing you can do. How do you find something that isn’t lost?”

* * *

Though the chief had prepared him a comfortable bed, Resak slept fitfully. Over and over again, he caught glimpses of the same dream—a huge, white wolf bounding through a dark forest. At the end of the dream, the wolf stopped and turned to Resak, as if waiting for him to follow.

As soon as dawn broke, Resak threw on his clothes, grabbed his hunting gear, and slipped outside.

Maybe you don’t believe in me now, Father, but you will when I find the chief’s lost treasure.

He lifted his fish-skin boots, one after the other, and the snowy hills rolled by. Soon he found himself deep in a forest. There was no sign of the white wolf, but Resak recognized the trees from his dream. They even behaved as if he were dreaming—whenever he looked away, they seemed to move and change, and the snow swallowed his tracks behind him.

Undaunted, Resak ran on, tracing the path the wolf had shown him. He paused only to suck on a handful of snow or to chew a piece of dried meat.

As the sun dipped behind the trees, Resak came upon a house in a clearing. He approached the entrance and coughed. When no one answered, he peeked inside.

A young woman crouched over the hearth, weeping.

“What’s wrong?” Resak asked.

The woman drew back and pulled her hair aside. Resak wondered if he had stumbled into the house of a kamuy. She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen.

She gasped and pointed to his chest.

“Where did you find that?”

Looking down, Resak found the wooden wolf from the chief’s house hanging from a ribbon around his neck.

“I—I don’t know! I didn’t mean to take it. I was visiting the village midway up the Ishikari…”

The woman sprung to her feet. “I thought so! It is my husband’s carving. You must take me there!”

“Now?” Resak glanced at the reddening sky. “It’s almost dark. Besides, I think the forest is playing tricks on me. I’m not sure I can find my way back.”

“Oh. Then you, too, are under the bear’s spell.”

“Bear?” said Resak. “Spell?”

“Yes. A bear kamuy is using his magic to keep me here. The trees and snow obey his will. No matter which way I go, I always end up where I started.”

“I thought kamuy were supposed to help us. Did you do something to anger him?”

The beautiful woman sat down and invited Resak to do the same.

“Let me start again. I am called Umakashte. I’m from the village you mentioned. Ever since I was a little girl, I could feel eyes on me, watching. I didn’t know it then, but it was a bear kamuy. He had fallen in love with me. When I married the chief’s son, the kamuy went mad with jealousy. He wanted me for his own, so he lured me here.”

With a clap of his hands, Resak exclaimed, “You’re the treasure the chief was talking about! But somehow the villagers don’t know what happened.”

“The bear stole their memories. They’ve forgotten all about me.” Tears splashed onto Umakashte’s lap. “Every night, when other bears are asleep in their dens, the mad kamuy comes. Every night I fear the worst, but something always drives him away.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve never dared to look. Whenever he gets close to the house, I hear a growl so loud my blood runs cold. Then he’s gone.”

“If the bear has trapped us here,” said Resak, “we must fight back.”

“How? You’re alone! And so young!”

“I may be young, but I’m a great hunter. I know how to kill a bear. I’ve watched my father do it.” He patted the hunting bag at his waist. “We’ll make poison-tipped arrows. One shot will end the bear’s life, swiftly and mercifully.” He did not mention he had taken the bag from his father.

Umakashte nodded.

Resak shook a few wolfsbane roots from the bag into a bowl. With Umakashte’s help, he ground them into powder and mixed in deer fat. Then he rubbed the paste on each of his arrowheads. When he was done, he gathered his arrows and prepared to leave.

He paused before the door. “I forgot to return this,” he said, touching the wolf necklace.

“No,” Umakashte insisted. “If you took it without meaning to, then perhaps it was the will of a kamuy.”

Resak couldn’t imagine why a kamuy would want him to take such a trinket, but he decided it would be rude to refuse. He turned and walked outside.

* * *

Resak crouched behind a tree at the forest’s edge. Before long he felt approaching footsteps, rumbling like thunder. He readied an arrow.

A shaggy boulder of a bear appeared through the trees and thrust his bulk into the clearing. Resak had never seen such a menacing beast.

He pulled his bowstring taught, exhaling to steady his trembling arms. He took aim with both eyes open, the way his father taught him.

The arrow whistled as it flew. A terrible roar shook snow from the branches. 

Eyes flashing like embers, the bear glared at Resak.

Now was the time to retreat, to give the poison time to do its work. But all of Resak’s courage evaporated under the bear’s gaze. He could only watch as the animal charged toward him, kicking up snow in all directions.

I wasn’t ready. Not for this.

The bear’s jaws yawned as he prepared to lunge.

I’m going to die here. Father and Mother will never know what happened.

A booming growl split the night. An enormous, white wolf vaulted Resak’s head and tackled the bear to the ground. It had a tail as long as an oar and fangs as thick as the knife hanging from Resak’s belt. 

His heart drumming on his ribs, Resak watched the wolf drive the bear back into the forest. Then they were gone, leaving the clearing strangely serene.

A long time passed before Resak dared to move again. When his heart finally stopped racing, he set off after the bear and the wolf. Splotches of blood stained their tracks.

The bear had not gone far. Resak found him lying still as a pelt. The anger in the animal’s eyes had faded. He looked smaller and younger than before.

As Resak gazed at the bear, his father’s words came back to him, like an echo carried on the wind.

“Never forget to honor the kamuy. They visit our world to bring us meat, fur, leather, bone. So we send them home with prayers and gifts. We do not hunt the kamuy. The hunter and the kamuy hunt each other.”

For the first time, Resak understood. He carved a prayer stick out of a branch and planted it beside the bear’s body.

“I promise I’ll return,” he said, “as soon as I find others to help me carry you to the village. I hope, when we send you back to your family, you find peace.”

* * *

As he stood to leave, Umakashte appeared, dashing toward him.

“You were gone so long,” she panted. “I thought…”

Resak shook his head.

Umakashte regarded the bear with both relief and sadness in her eyes.

“If it wasn’t for your courage, I would have never escaped this curse. Thank you.”

“I just fired the arrow.” Resak pulled the wolf necklace over his head and placed it in Umakashte’s hands. “Your husband is the one you should thank. Not even the bear’s magic could stop his love for you. It must have caught the attention of a powerful wolf kamuy. He has protected you all this time. He’s the one who led me here. And if you hadn’t convinced me to take this, the bear would surely have killed me.”

Umakashte smiled. “No one ever does anything by themselves. You’re still the bravest boy I know.” With one last, silent prayer for the bear kamuy, the two of them turned and trudged through the snow back to the house in the clearing.

*

“Resak and the Bear” was first published in Cricket magazine (Nov/Dec 2014). It is based on an Ainu folktale as told by Teru Nishijima and collected and published (as “The Romance of the Bear God”) by Shigeru Kayano.